The Northern Knights Series (Boxed Set)

by Amber Dane

  Whereas, Alexa busied herself with watching him in her anger and upset. She was mad that he’d withheld the information over her family’s murders. He knew a part of her still refused to believe it as much as that part of her that had no choice but to believe it.

  She did not embroider to pass the time as she had made it clear to him, she did not know how. He knew the hellion had lied. She’d stitched his new tunics with no problem when she’d tried to escape.

  Still, he’d known she was not one to sit idly by, whiling her days away on stitching tapestries and the like. Not that there was anything wrong with it. But, it simply was not her and he found he liked that. Save the fact, he was not so sure he’d want her where she really wished to be- the practice field.

  Tonight, he had not asked his men to enter and he’d come to the chamber earlier. With a disgruntled grunt, he set the blade and oiled rag atop the chest and quickly washed his hands in the nearby washbowl. He then walked over to the table set up before the low fire burning in the hearth and sat down on the bench.

  Rourke called out, “Come. Sit and sup before our meal grows cold.”

  Alexa left the window and took her seat. He need not tell her twice. She was starving. Her appetite had finally returned to normal. The past two days she’d still not eaten much with so much happening and being so nervous in his presence did not help. She was not so sure she liked these new feelings.

  Alexa bit into one of her treats, a sweet wafer.

  Rourke frowned over the pleasurable sound of enjoyment that came from her. Irked that it stirred his groin, his tone came out more gruffly than intended.

  “What is that?”

  Alexa frowned and gave him a look in return that said he should have known. “A sweet wafer.”

  He surprised her when he leaned forward and reached for one and popped the whole thing into his mouth. After a moment, he said, “Tart.”

  ‘Tart to you. Sweet to me.”

  He grunted and leaned back, but not before he picked up two more. Her lips twitched as she watched him. She popped a berry into her mouth and lowered her eyes from him.

  Rourke flinched. He liked her eyes on him. His body heated up. The look she had sent him was softer.

  She ate a few berries and reached for the strips of beef. Rourke tried to find a comfortable position with his back to the wall so he could watch her at leisure. She ignored him and it irritated him further. She took a nibble at the beef first before she ate one sliver, then the next.

  Never had he thought eating the way she chewed the beef could be so sensual. Rourke did not know that he leaned forward as she slowly continued to eat.

  But, Alexa noticed. She watched him with a hot open gaze as she pulled more and more meat from the platter.

  Soon enough, it was clean and she reached for the pitcher to fill her cup. She drank half; the warm wine warming her senses and belly, all the while her eyes on him.

  Posed in that position he seemed to favor after eating, Alexa let her eyes rove slowly over his large frame.

  Up his legs, thighs, over his hips and flat stomach, to the open collar of his tunic showing his bronzed skin and a few light golden hairs on his chest. Then up to his whiskers to those red lips- more red now from his drink of the wine and eating berries, to end at his green eyes-which were open and aflame on her.

  Alexa swallowed hard the last of the wine in her mouth and nearly choked.

  Rourke’s lips parted. “Good to see your appetite back.”

  His deep husky tone sent shivers of warmth down to the pit of her belly. Alexa let out a sigh and was disappointed when he jerked back with a groan and closed his eyes.

  She knew he was awake. She did not wish for the remainder of the evening to be spent in silence as it had been the past two evenings and heard herself asking, “Were you born mean?” She knew he heard her, but he took his sweet time in responding. She wanted to talk and needed him to.

  “Is it not written somewhere that all of us Normans are born that way and with a fork from hell in each hand?”

  Alexa would not let him steer her down a path to make her lose her temper. If this marriage were to work, she wanted to know about this man that had invaded her home and her body.

  “That is not so. You jest when I try to be serious. ‘Tis obvious one must be reared in that way to turn out like-“she stopped. One green eye popped open and glared at her. She licked her lips.

  Then, with a look of boredom, he closed his eyes again, “I do not remember much about the man that claimed to be my father other than the fact that his fist was like iron. And I felt it plenty in my young years when one should not.”

  His tone was flat and Alexa waited, hoping for more. But, he said naught.

  “Your mother?” She prodded nervously as she picked among the nuts and berries. He had touched upon his mother briefly the other night and Alexa held her breath, hoping he would take the moment and expand upon it.

  An annoyed sigh came from between his parted lips and Alexa did not think he would say more.

  But,when he opened his eyes, burning her with his stare, she let out the breath she held as he said. “My mother was a favorite tanner and bleacher of William’s wife Matilda as well as a friend. She had taken us in when my bastard of a father left us on the side of a road to starve.”

  Alexa gasped and his jaw clenched. But, he went on, “I was a fast learner. Big from the beginning, agile and caught William’s eye.”

  Rourke went on to tell her how he was soon called into the king’s court with a few other wayward bastards like himself to start their training. His knighthood came early due to his fast agility, quick learning skills and growth.

  “So, you grew up a favorite of William’s, the court at an early age?”

  He shrugged.

  ‘Twas like pulling teeth! Alexa picked up the carafe.

  “More wine?”

  “Nay. But, I tire of this conversation.”

  She licked her lips and returned the carafe back to the table, then fisted her hands in her lap. “It is good we talk, it helps ease the…the not knowing with this person wishing to do me harm…out there.”

  “Conversation will not catch him. I will. Now come, I am ready for bed.”

  Alexa expelled a long frustrated exasperated breath and glared at him. He lifted a golden brow, adding, “And I am too weary for a fight.”

  Alexa tensed. He normally left the chamber after the meal, then returned after he’d believed she’d slept the past two nights. Something ignited within her. She did not wish to fight either. Would he touch this night?

  She inhaled sharply when she realized how much she wanted him to. She blamed her crazy thoughts on the angst she held over not being able to find this person and everything else that was going on. But,she knew it was more than that. Being so close to him, smelling his musky scent, feeling his hard body against hers the past nights-

  ‘Twas utter madness and she didn’t know how much more of it she could stand. Was he not affected?

  She wiped her hands clean and moved over to the bed. In a matter of minutes he seemed to be naked and at her back whilst she still had yet to remove the thin shift.

  “Do you need my help?”

  “Nay.” She swallowed nervously and removed it quickly with shaky hands and made to pull the thick furs across to cover her nakedness. She was startled by his light chuckle.

  “There is naught to hide. I have seen everything quite thoroughly already, Alexa.”

  Alexa’s gaze shot to his. Passion flamed inside her at the smoldering look he gave her. She asked boldly, “Must you always be so brutish?”

  A finger touched her nipple; she flinched and bit back a moan. “Only you make me that way. Come, lie back. ‘Tis time you start calling me by my given name.”

  Shock had her stare at him. “Is that so? Why?”

  “Because I wish it so and I want to hear it on your tongue before my weary bones put me to sleep. Speak it.”

  The pad of his
thumb brushed over her nipple as the heat in her belly uncurled and Alexa stared down at him and knew what he was doing. Conversation would not catch the killer, but he was trying to ease her fear. She sighed when he pinched her nipple and she heard herself say it. “Ro-Rourke.”

  And she repeated it louder again when his hot mouth replaced his fingers and he suckled her and she knew no more.

  He had lied. He’d said he was weary, yet he made passionate love to her twice like a man possessed through the long night before he allowed the both of them to rest, totally exhausted. Snug and holding her up against his side, his snores soon reached her ears. Alexa rested a hand over his heart. He had opened up to her in more ways than he’d known this night and her heart blossomed. The unrest in her was gone and she smiled as sleep welcomed her.

  TWENTY-TWO

  It took only one more day and he allowed her freedom to roam with guards hidden at every turn about the manor. Alexa was glad to stretch and her eyes greedily ate up every new change she spotted. From new furniture added, to his coat of arms on a large banner splayed above the hearth in the great dining hall, to the servants, Saxon and Norman the like, working side by side as they bustled about doing their chores.

  She wanted to be angry, but found she could not. Everyone looked healthy, robust and occupied with what it was they were doing. All greeted her as she passed and Alexa found, surprisingly that the changes were not so bad after all.

  Upon reaching the small room, one of the guards assigned to her veered off to one side out of sight and the other, stayed hidden in an alcove within the room with her. With her out in the open, Rourke had argued mightily betwixt her and Goran until they lost and that one guard would be visible at all times. Her being out of the chamber was the second part of the plan and they hoped it might flush the person out.

  The plan had produced no one in the two days and Rourke believed the killer would strike again when they thought his and her guards were down.

  Alexa sighed and unsheathed the wooden makeshift squire blade he’d left at the foot of their bed this morning. At first,she had been angry. It wasn’t her true blade, but it was damn better than a candle stick. Soon enough she would have her own sword back in her hands, she hoped. Alexa readied for some eager exercise.

  The airy room had always been empty of furniture and a place for her and Lisbeth to engage in a fun game of chess and for Alexa to practice her weaponry when thick snow blanketed the grounds or when their father feared the marauders from the forests might pounce. The wide windows in this room sucked in the sunlight this frigid day. She stretched this way and that and practiced. All the while mumbling aloud her thoughts as she attacked the makeshift clothed dummy in front of her over and over with much skill and zealous.

  “Were it a real opponent, I fear I would be walking knee deep in blood and you would be the victor, my lady. Your skill is one to be much admired.”

  Goran came into the room with hands clasped behind his back and a sweet smile on his handsome face. Alexa found herself returning it with one of her own. She nodded at him.

  “Sir Goran, I thank you for your too kind words.”

  She was surprised when he blushed under her words and adjusted the cloak buttoned at his neck.

  “’Tis true. Who taught you?”

  “My father.” Alexa’s hoarse response choked her.

  “He was a fine swordsman, then. I fear, a warning must be given to one when a true blade is in your hands. A woman should be lauded simply for picking up a blade. Your father taught you well.”

  ‘Twas Alexa’s turn to blush. Soon enough the uncomfortable feeling vanished from them both and he drew her into light banter and had her thoughts elsewhere and laughing aloud. Alexa found she enjoyed the time with him and for one moment she wished- Why could Rourke not possess such a pleasant side to him as his friend?

  Their laughter was soon interrupted by the large presence in the doorway.

  Alexa’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes fell upon the man that occupied her thoughts. He was head to toe in black except for the gray fur lining his leather boots. He looked so handsome with his hair pulled back from his face. His dark look shot from her to Goran. Alexa and let out a tense breath.

  “Exercise is over. Come, Goran, we have a matter to see to.”

  His gruff tone shattered the good feelings she had. Goran nodded and quit the room, but Rourke entered and came to stand before her. Alexa let her neck fall back to look up at him. “Where do you go?” She asked him.

  “A short bit away. We will be back before dusk.”

  His throaty response shot a tingle to her belly. He was standing so close to her and those lips she so wanted to kiss, parted. He seemed angry, but he was looking at her in that way he usually did when he wanted to be inside her.

  “The guard will see you back to the solar. You will- nay, Alexa. You will remain there until I return.”

  She clamped her mouth shut, then opened it again. “My first day of freedom cut short. Naught has happened. Can I not stay just a little longer here?”

  Her eyes pleaded with him to trust her and Rourke’s gut clenched. His jealousy at hearing and seeing the way she laughed and seemed to be enjoying herself in Goran’s presence, ate at him. Yet, he wanted to kiss her. She looked so beautiful, open and carefree talking to his friend. She had yet to bestow this side of herself to him. He cursed aloud over his thoughts and she took a step back from him.

  He cleared his throat and fought the urge to reach out and undo the long braid at her back. So, he bent and picked up her wooden blade and handing it to her, he signaled the guard. “Nay. You know it is unwise until the threat has passed.”

  He waited to see if she would argue. She didn’t, but the look in her amber pools told him she wanted to. She turned away from him and followed after the guard. At the door she turned to him.

  “I wish for Camm’s company later.”

  “Aye, and have your maid help you free your hair from that ugly braid.”

  They said no more to one another and Rourke waited until she and the guard disappeared from the top of the wooden staircase before he walked out to meet Goran. A different anger firing his blood this time.

  He wanted the bright look of life back in her eyes, not the dull one he’d seen just before she’d left with the guard. Hopefully, after this errand, Rourke sighed, he would be able to see more of it.

  “What do you mean to bring my lord way out here to see a bag of bones? We cannot get any answers from this. Our source told us you would have answers. You have wasted our time.” Goran’s shout was full of fury.

  Rourke squatted near the bones scattered upon the worn pelts, looking them over. The woman’s skull had been bashed in. The hunter that claimed to be a witness to who the woman was stuttered as he backed away from Goran’s wrath.

  ‘My lords, wa-wait. See. You will see your time was not wasted.”

  “See what old man?” Goran asked through clenched teeth.

  “Goran.” Rourke’s deep timbre shook the rafters in the small hut.

  The small fire coming from the pit in the center of the one room hut left the place feeling as if they were still outside. Rourke’s breath puffed out a white cloud as he stood. Goran grunted and took a step back.

  “Who is this woman to you, old man?” Rourke asked, his dark gaze lit on the man.

  The old man shook visibly even more under the direct scrutiny of his overlord. Holding his hat clenched tightly in his fist, he pleaded.

  “My dogs found her, my lord. I thought they had found a rabbit they were so hot and fevered to get at it. But, when I was able to get them away, I saw- I saw-“ tears filled the old man’s eyes as a sob choked off his words before he continued, “I saw ‘twas she. The flesh may be gone from her bones, but I’d know her all the same. They left behind this.”

  He turned his cap right side up and held it out to Rourke. Rourke at first believed Goran to be right. The tip was a waste. But soon, he found himself frowning
as he looked closer at what was inside the cap.

  It was a red and black strip of cloth. He reached in and pulled it out. It was dirty, torn with frayed edges, but it was the same material as that of the strip that had been tied to his Alexa’s sword.

  He closed his fist around it and handed the old man back his cap.

  “What is this?”

  “’Twas a tunic she had made for my lady, my lord. Looks like someone ripped it.”

  “Aye. She made it for my wife?”

  “Nay”, the old man frowned and gave him a strange look. “Lady Lisbeth, my lord.”

  Rourke could feel Goran’s eyes on him as he stared at the man. A chill slid up his spine and he put to the old man, “You know this is so, because?”

  “That be my daughter, Emma, that lies dead upon those pelts, my lord. Her mother died from a broken heart this past spring.” Fresh tears rolled down the old man’s cheeks. “She and Emma made the tunic at the request of your wife. Emma was with Lady Lisbeth after she took ill. She said it was not right what they had done to the shy mistress.”

  Rourke looked from Goran back to the man. “What had they done?”

  “Don’t rightly know much, other than Emma said she was going to speak with Lady Alexa about it. But,” the old man cried in earnest and he talked around his sobs. “I guess she never got the chance.”

  Rourke understood what the man was not saying. His daughter had been murdered for whatever it was she had known. ‘Twas a common occurrence for serfs to be especially careful and not to accuse a noble or anyone in the manor house of a crime without fear of what punishment wouldst rain down upon their family. Sometimes imprisonment or worse, like in this case, death. Even if the claim proved true. But, Rourke did not think the man was accusing Alexa.

  Rourke pushed back the animal pelts that hung from the door arch and stepped back out into the night. Soon, Goran emerged from the hut after him. Rourke looked to the skies. Snow had yet to blanket the area, but winter was showing its cold snap. The gray skies would soon change over to night and he had told Alexa they would be back by then. Mounting, he reached under his cloak into a pocket near his underarm and withdrew the strip there. He held it out next to the piece he’d taken from the old man. ‘‘Twas the same indeed.